I’ve been very afraid lately.
The scarier part is if you ask me ‘of what?’, all I’d do is stare at you blankly.
See, the truth is, I don’t know ‘of what’. And with all my intelligible knowledge, from digging deep in my Freudian attic, to retracing my steps up and down, then half way up and all the way down, Maslow’s triangle thingy, I still couldn’t tell you.
‘Ah, perhaps, I am being too logical about this’, a phrase I don’t think I’ve EVER used in the first person. So, I transcended to the spiritual. In a very anti-Freudian trek, searching for my inner oneness, by observing and being, void of that false voice, ‘the mind’, in true Krishnamurti fashion… talking to God, opening my eyes to see ‘what IS’, versus ‘what I WANT to see’…
And though I have come a long ways, I have learned– excuse me, am learning– that letting go of it all is the only way everything comes to you, and most likely it comes out of want, not out of being forced.
For Christ’s sake, if by this point you think all of this has to with a guy, you couldn’t be further from understanding me.
We spend so much time running after things– stop and think about it, really. You run after a big promotion, you give up your youth, years and who you are. You run so fast, sometimes even run in place out of sheer anxiety that if you stop running, something will happen to you. You create other desires to run after, even if you are tired, and then one day, you just start running to run, from yourself. You’ve lost total desire to run after anything, but you just need to run.
I am so tired of running for the sake of running away. But as my pace has slowed down to a jog, a brisk runner’s walk, I feel so much fear.
And there are those who will say, ‘that’s normal in the beginning when you face your fears.’ But it’s been like this for a while, maybe 2 years or so. Then again, it is possible that on a macro-cosmic level, 2 years or so is the beginning of the beginning.
I don’t know.
And it doesn’t make me any less afraid.
The only difference in the last 2 years, is that my perception of myself and the life around me has shed itself of a good chunk of its anger and arrogance. For the first time in my life, being ‘the best’, ‘number one’, getting ‘at-a-girl!’ pats on the back… less consumed with those. I find I’ve been pursuing what I love, not really worrying about who else will love it.
The less I need of people, the more I want of the world.
There’s a great Jack Kerouac quote, which has totally encapsulated all sentiments and thoughts I’ve had that are shaping me:
“It’s not that I can’t fall in love. It’s really that I can’t help falling in love with too many things all at once. So, you must understand why I can’t distinguish between what’s platonic and what isn’t, because it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.”
You can’t be hot and cold at the same time; you can’t be black and white, light and dark, either.
How the hell can you feel liberated and still be afraid?
Moreover, how the hell can you be afraid and not know, ‘of what?’